


Tulips

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2019-09-07 06:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: Castiel gets a frequent visitor to his flower shop.





	Tulips

Castiel was a couple hours into his daily shift, reorganizing the flowers in the display window to make them more enticing to the passer-bys on the street.  Arranging the flowers was one of his favorite parts of the job: placing different flowers next to each other based on color or shape, height or width, sometimes based on their meaning.

He turned from the display, walking to the sink behind the counter where he needed to trim some of the stems they’d be using for a wedding order.  Behind him, the bell tinkled lightly, indicating that a customer had entered.

Castiel turned, seeing a tall, handsome man walking toward him.  “Good morning, sir,” Castiel said politely.  “What can I get for you?”

The man’s smile reached his bright green eyes, which definitely did  _not_  captivate Castiel’s attention.  “I need a dozen red roses, please.”

“Right away,” Castiel responded with a smile.  Of course this handsome stranger was coming to buy flowers for his significant other. Why else would someone come into a flower shop?

Castiel turned to their stash of roses, choosing twelve of the best ones and moving to trim the stems. As he worked, the man spoke up again.

“What’s, uh,” Castiel looked at him to encourage him to continue.  “What’s your favorite flower in here?”

Castiel smiled back down at his work.  “Well, as a florist, I have many favorites, so I supposed it depends on my mood or the purpose of the flowers.”

“Purpose, eh?” the man asked, and Castiel let the rumble of his voice wash over him.  “Let’s say that you were getting flowers from someone as a romantic gesture.  What would you want to get?”

“Hmm… For the purpose of romance, I wouldn’t want a cliché.  Roses are beautiful, but often overused.”  Castiel hoped he wasn’t offending the man for buying roses, but he continued.  “I would want to be happy with my partner, perhaps something like Bird of Paradise?” Castiel finished clipping stems, tying the roses into a bunch.

“Which are those?” the stranger asked, looking around the shop.  Castiel placed the roses on the counter before he walked around it, heading to the Bird of Paradise flowers.

“These symbolize joy, magnificence, excitement and anticipation,” Castiel explained, holding one out.  The man took it, studying the flower as if it could tell him directly what it meant. “Aren’t those feelings ones that you would want to have in a relationship?”  

With that question, Castiel went back to the counter, ringing up the man for the roses.

“Your total will be…” Castiel trailed off when the single Bird of Paradise stem was placed on top of the roses.  He added the flower to the total.  “23.75.”

The man slid his card through the machine as Castiel wrapped the roses.  He moved to wrap the Bird of Paradise as well, but a solid hand stopped him.

“That one is for you,” was all he said before the stranger and the roses were gone, leaving Castiel and a very romantic flower alone in the shop.

* * *

Three days later, Castiel was once again working in the shop.  The bell tinkled, the same stranger came in the door.  

“Welcome back,” Castiel greeted, his cheeks heating slightly.  “What can I get for you today?”

“Can I have a dozen red roses again?” he asked, voice gravelly just as Castiel remembered. Castiel nodded, and got to work as the man made his way around the shop, whistling a tune to himself.

It was only when Castiel moved to the counter to ring him up that he put a single flower on top of the roses again, this time a ranunculus.  Castiel wondered if he chose it randomly, or if he chose it on purpose.

Like before, Castiel rang the man up, he slid his card and picked up the flowers, holding the roses to his chest and offering the ranunculus to Castiel, who took it as his cheeks heated.  The man smiled before he slipped out of the store.

Ranunculus, Castiel thought. Radiant charm, attractiveness.

* * *

This pattern continued. Every two to three days, the strange, incredibly attractive man would come in, ask for a dozen roses, and give Castiel a single flower.

Each flower got more intense in meaning, or sometimes he would repeat a flower, seeming to want that message to come across again.  The whole situation led Castiel to believe that he was, indeed, giving them with purpose.

It was an amaryllis: splendid beauty.

Then it was a gardenia: joy, the message that the receiver is lovely.

Next was a calla lily: magnificence, beauty.

Two weeks after the first meeting, he gave Castiel a yellow iris, indicating passion.

It was that day that Castiel’s voice stopped the man from leaving the store as he reachec the door, asking, “Who are the roses for?”

Green eyes met blue as he responded.  “My boss sends me here whenever he and his wife have had an argument, they’re his way of making up with her.”  Cas nodded in understanding, the knowledge that the handsome stranger was not, in fact, buying them for his significant other making something tighten in his chest.

One green eye winked at him before he walked out of the door, leaving an eager Castiel holding the iris, passion stirring in his gut.

* * *

It was a longer period of time before Castiel saw the stranger next.  It was so long, in fact, that Castiel was afraid he’d never see him again.

9 days after the yellow iris (not that Castiel was counting), the bell tinkled on the door, and Castiel’s blue eyes met bright green.

The man didn’t ask for roses this time, so Castiel waited.  He stood behind the counter as the man moved around the room, gathering what he was looking for.

Finally he came to the counter, holding a messily made, but completely endearing, bunch of flowers.  Ranunculus (attractiveness) was one that he had used before, but it was amongst blue salvia (thinking of you), white bouvardia (enthusiasm), and fern fronds (fascination).  The two flowers (of which he had chosen about a dozen of) that had the most insistent meanings in the bunch, however, were sweet pea, which meant delicate pleasure and bliss, and tulips, which were often used as a declaration of love.

Castiel looked up at the man’s face, needing to know if these were supposed to be a message or if it was all just random.

The man was smiling softly, eyes somewhat guarded as he spoke.  “These, um.  These are all for you.”

Castiel swallowed, and the man’s eyes followed the bob of his Adam’s apple.  He held his hand out to take the bunch, Castiel’s delicate fingers brushing against calloused ones.  Castiel brought the bunch of flowers to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of the mixture. The man watched him closely, before he moved slowly around the counter to stand next to Castiel.

His hand reached out, curling gently against Castiel’s waist.  Castiel unconsciously leaned into the touch, turning toward him.

“I’m Dean,” the green-eyed man said, stepping closer to Castiel.

“Castiel,” he responded, stepping closer as well.

“Nice to meet you,” Dean whispered back, bringing his free hand up to Castiel’s cheek.  Castiel just nodded in agreement, his eyes moving to watch Dean’s tongue wet his lips.  Castiel mimicked his actions, and Dean’s eyes watched the movement as well.

They were frozen for an instant, until the bunch of flowers was forgotten on the countertop and Castiel pulled Dean in for a kiss, reciprocating all of the flowers’ meanings with his tongue against Dean’s.


End file.
